


a study in you

by fairytiger



Category: Lizzie Bennet Diaries
Genre: F/M, Netherfield Arc
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-12
Updated: 2013-06-12
Packaged: 2017-12-14 19:48:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/840689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairytiger/pseuds/fairytiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The thing about living with someone you truly and utterly despise for an entire month is that you learn all kinds of things about them you could have gone your whole life without learning.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	a study in you

**Author's Note:**

> You know when you start writing one fic and end up writing another? That's what happened here. Completely un-beta'ed. Idk you guys, I'm pretty sure I just wanted to write about Darcy in jeans.

The thing about living with someone you truly and utterly despise for an entire month is that you learn all kinds of things about them you could have gone your whole life without learning.

He’s a night owl _and_ a morning person, which first of all, _how?_ and second of all, it’s irritatingly hard to be irritated with him when he’s the one making the coffee every day and making sure the house is locked up at night. 

(You’re plenty irritated by lunch when he’s eaten the last of the leftover macaroni and cheese you made the night before, even after he passed when you offered him a plate. You’re sure it’s only because they’re out of quinoa. Whatever.)

xxx

You learn that he bikes when he’s frustrated. Or stressed, or basically any time he comes close to feeling a human emotion. You’re all ready to make this exact snarky comment when he’s biking up the driveway just as you’re taking out the trash. But there’s something in his face that stops you, like he’s working out a problem, focused (so focused apparently that he’s not going to use the towel that’s around his neck and do anything about the fact that he’s drenched in sweat. Did he bike to the sun?). It’s not far from the look he gets when he’s staring at you.

And you’re sure he’s going to do what he always does and offer to take out the trash for you, because clearly you’re incapable of doing the most basic of chores.

But he doesn’t. He locks up the bike in the garage, and nods his head toward you as he goes inside with a simple “Lizzie.”

You wonder what that’s all about (and why your name always sounds so different coming from him).

xxx

You learn that he’s handy. Not in an orange apron way (though the thought is hilarious), but he knows the difference between a flat and Philips head screwdriver and you’re surprised, assumed he always had _people_ for that kind of thing.

But then one day you come home from shopping with Caroline, one bag to her impressive six, and he’s in the guest bath, working at the sink with a wrench, wearing _jeans_. Granted, dark wash jeans, but it’s the most casual you’ve ever seen him and you didn’t even know he owned anything other than dress pants.

He explains that the faucet was leaking, though nobody asked. And you notice that instead of Caroline hanging on to his every word like usual, she’s staring. At the jeans.

But it’s not even this buttoned down version of him that gets to you. It’s the way he can talk and work at the same time in a way that he can’t when he’s at his computer. His hands move over the sink and through the toolbox like it’s second nature, like he’s been doing it his whole life. And it bothers you because you have an image of him to keep up in your videos, and seeing him do something so common-man isn’t helping.

He pushes up the sleeves on his shirt and turns the wrench around the faucet and suddenly you’re staring, too?

“One of the light switches in the library stopped working,” you say, clearing your throat. “Just so you know.”

He barely glances at you before turning back to the sink. “I’ll take a look.”

(It’s working the next day).

xxx

You learn that he wears ties like a mood ring.

You can tell what kind of day it’s going to be by the blues versus the greens, the bowties versus the skinnies, a pattern if he’s feeling festive, red if he’s got a particularly big day ahead of him.

You don’t even realize you know the difference until you see him in a red one one morning and wish him good luck.

“On what?”

You pause mid sip of coffee.

“I...don’t actually know.”

He looks at you in that way again, like he has no idea what to make of you, and you quickly take your breakfast out to the patio, muttering “whatever” on the way out.

(That night, Bing congratulates him on closing some major deal that’s apparently been in the works for weeks. You keep your eyes on your book and pretend to read.)

xxx

You learn that you’re almost used to having him around by the time you and Jane go home.

Not that you guys are going to be roommates anytime soon, but when his constant presence isn’t so constant anymore, it’s a little like having your house free of ghosts. They were annoying, sure, but you’re so used to looking over your shoulder, it’s strange to find nothing there.

There’s an adjustment to being back home that you didn’t expect. The house doesn’t smell like coffee in the morning and you double check the deadbolt before you go to bed. Your leftovers are there waiting for you the next day when you’re grabbing a quick bite before class. When the shower drain clogs, your dad calls a plumber. 

It’s way too early to start shopping for graduation dresses, but Lydia drags you along with her to the mall on the weekend anyway, saying she needs to get out of the heat and into a new two piece. You comb the department store racks for something sensible in your budget that isn’t pink or sequined until you find a gray sheath dress with a faint, dotted pattern you swear you’ve seen somewhere before. It’s soft and feels expensive, professional. 

You remember where you’ve seen the pattern an hour later and immediately exchange it for a green, lace top that’s not quite right for graduation, but there’s always your birthday.

(There’s a voice that says things will only bother you as much as you let them, but you’re not ready to listen just yet.)

(You’re still learning.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [clouds in my coffee (the diamond in the rough is looking so sparkly remix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4093975) by [rthstewart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthstewart/pseuds/rthstewart)




End file.
